


Enough to Believe

by AlulaSpeaks



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Post-Season/Series 11, Season/Series 12, Season/Series 12 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 19:45:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8258255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlulaSpeaks/pseuds/AlulaSpeaks
Summary: Mary and Dean drag a wounded Sam to safety. Sam confronts all the ways his faith has cost him and what he has left to believe in.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Part of my season 12 countdown. Only 3 days to go! Come chat with me on [Tumblr](http://alulaspeaks.tumblr.com)

They burst out of the house into bright sunlight that pounds through Sam's head. He has his arm slung over Dean's shoulder and Mary is half a step behind them, covering their exit.

There are three steps down from the porch to the sidewalk leading to the driveway. Sam grunts and braces himself on Dean, his thigh spiking pain hot up his leg.

“Easy, Sammy, I got you,” Dean says, quiet and low and steers them toward the back of the Impala. Sam's eyes prick and burn to hear the sound of the voice he built his world on. Dean alive is too good to be true, too surreal. Having Mary here just makes it that much harder to believe, but Sam doesn't think he is hallucinating again. There's too much real, physical pain aching through every part of his body. It's different, just like Dean had said all those years ago, begging Sam to believe. Sam is trying to believe again, but he feels scraped raw and ripe for infection. Torture brings Sam's hell memories so much closer to the surface.

Sam's been to the cage three times now, by his count. Once he jumped in himself. Once Cas broke his wall and sent Sam careening into the memories of 180 years of hell torture so devastating that Sam had to split into three pieces just to survive it. And once when Sam had walked right into the cage, terrified but hopeful, because he thought God was asking him to. Every time Sam ended up in the cage, he ended up there on faith. The faith that he was doing the right thing, the faith that Cas would not hurt him, standing there like an idiot while Cas touched his forehead, and faith that he was worthy of God's trust.

Strange that Sam's faith should suffer now that he knows God is alive and well. He tries not to think about how Chuck helped him and Dean make it to Stull Cemetery so Sam could do the right thing and fall. He's grateful for that help. It was the right thing to do. Sam has to believe that, even now with Lucifer on the loose again. But if he thinks about how Chuck, how God, played a roll in getting him there, he has to think about the rest of what that means.

Sam has read _Swan Song_ , Chuck's ebook account of that day. He has read Chuck's closing narration. If Sam lets himself think about it, then he remembers how proud Chuck was of the way the story wound up, his praise for family and choice. Then he thinks about how God knew where Sam was the whole time. He knew what would happen to Sam in the pit and was content to leave him there. He thinks about the triumphant tone at the end of that book, how God's happy ending was Sam in a hole with the devil forever, and ever, Amen.

And if he thinks about that, then Sam has to admit how goddamn stupid it was to believe that God might answer his prayers, might reach out to Sam with a message.

God did rouse himself and come out of the woodwork eventually. Just not for Sam. He even said he believed in Sam, it's just too bad he got around to saying it when Sam couldn't believe it. His faith had finally shriveled up and died, the roots of it rotted away.

“Come on, Sam, bend those giraffe legs,” Dean says, and Sam blinks to find himself standing in the open door of the Impala, Dean guiding him into the back seat. Mary is climbing in the driver's seat so Dean eases Sam down, curls his legs in the foot well and climbs in with him.

“Ok, go,” Dean says as he's closing the back door.

“Hang on,” Mary calls, and guns the engine, tires spitting gravel as they peel away from the house. Dean watches the road behind them until the house disappears from view.

“How is he,” Mary asks, voice tight. “Do we need a hospital?”

“Got something better,” Dean answers. “Cas, you son of a bitch, where the hell are you? Sam needs you.”

Dean turns and grips Sam by the biceps, helps him settle more fully against the seat back.

“Hang in there Sammy, ok?”

“I'm fine.” Sam says, trying to smile a little.

The flutter of wings sounds Cas's arrival in the front seat.

“Heal him,” Dean orders.

“Sam, it is good to see you.” Cas says, and reaches across the back of the seat, fingers outstretched.

Sam doesn't mean to, he really doesn't. It's just that he's hurting so bad and with his vision tinted red by his own blood, everything is just too close to the surface. Every awful remembered wrongdoing, every time his faith has hurt him is all right there in the front of his mind. So when Cas's hand passes into Sam's peripheral vision, Sam flinches away.

The car seems deadly still with Cas's hand hanging alone in the empty air. Sam feels himself flush with shame.

“Sam?” Cas asks sounding strangely diminished.

“It's fine, really. It's not so bad. A few days rest and I'll be good as new,” Sam stammers a little, voice choked and tight. He just needs a few minutes to get himself together.

Dean's hand on Sam's arm tightens, fingers digging into his muscle, grip strong, but careful not to hurt. “What the hell, Sam. You've got to let Cas heal you.”

Sam shakes his head a little, finds he can't meet their eyes though he can feel them both watching him.

“Is it… are you?” Dean cuts himself off, rubs his free hand over his mouth. “It's really Cas. Lucifer isn't here, ok? You've got to believe me.”

“No, yeah, I know.” Sam says, but he feels caught out and jumpy. He can feel the way Cas is focused on him, intense and pointed.

“Sam, I swear to you that my only intention is to heal your wounds. I will not hurt you, you have my word.”

Dean jerks at Cas's words, looks back and forth between them. Whatever he sees makes his jaw tick with tension.

“Sam, please, come on,” Dean says and ducks his head to catch Sam's eyes. “Hey, no one here is going to hurt you. Trust me.” The look on his face is begging Sam to believe him.

So Sam has to choose again. He has to choose whether or not to trust Dean. It's a little harder after Gadreel, but things have been so good between them this last year that Sam knows that he'll bet on Dean, just like he did this last time in the cage. On the balance, Dean has saved him more times than he's hurt him and Sam figures he can't ask for much more.

“Ok,” Sam says, “do it.”

He locks his eyes onto Dean's. Dean looks right back, something naked and fierce in his eyes. Castiel's hand comes into Sam's peripheral vision and Sam holds himself perfectly still. Cas's fingers are dry and rough, and they send a pulse of warm energy through Sam's body. He can feel his wounds stitching closed as the pain dissolves in a hazy cloud, and his muscles relax and unclench. When Cas is done, even Sam's thoughts feel more clear.

“Ok?” Dean asks. His eyes still on Sam's and there is so much emotion in them that Sam feels a little lost. God may not love Sam, but there are people who do, people who have made mistakes but are trying to be better, and maybe that's enough to believe in for now.

“Yeah,” Sam says, looking back “I'm ok.”


End file.
